


miracle mile

by bravest



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, and some flustered dean, more puppy crushing ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 15:11:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravest/pseuds/bravest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kevin needs some advice, but asking dean might not be the best decision he's ever made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	miracle mile

There came a time when Kevin needed some advice, and after a very failed attempt with Garth (that sock puppet, man, really?) and scratching his mother out of the equation, he had to conclude that there was no one else he could talk to but Dean. He was apprehensive about it, hesitant. Dean was a nice guy, sure, but he was a little rougher around the edges than Sam, with whom he felt he could talk if he needed to. Dean seemed the type to brush off anything too feelings-y for him and the like.

The more he thought about it, though, the more it made sense: didn't Dean have a thing with that angel? The one that was like a thousand years older than him? Maybe he had some advice on dealing with crushes on older guys, right? Maybe that was his _thing_. 

Getting him alone wasn't been easy, but after giving Sam a certain set of puppy eyes and a gentle request, he'd sauntered away to get Kevin some fresh, warm coffee (with milk, please). His eyes had followed Sam as he'd walked out, fixed on his back. Every time he watched him leave there was a strange curling sensation in his stomach, a fear in his gut. What if he never heard from him again? What if this time the Winchesters walked away and left him stranded and alone again? He'd managed fairly well by himself during that year or so, but it wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat.

Not now that he'd gotten used to Sam's soft encouragements and smiles, seeking them out as often as he could. He always made sure he was showered and clean before they came over, wanting to see that look in Sam's eyes that said _Good, you're doing good, I'm glad_. He was running out of excuses for them to come by, but they visited often enough to make sure he wasn't drowning in his own blood or something. The flicker of relief in Sam's eyes always pleased him, which he thought was a little twisted. Was it wrong to want to see that worry evaporate from his face as often as possible? Probably. Especially when most of it was due to the likely guilt Sam felt over abandoning Kevin. He didn't hold it against them, not really, but it had been kind of a shitty thing to do. It was over now, though, and here they were, checking up on him and looking out for his well being. Everything still sucked, but Sam was making it better. Easier.

And turning him into a giant sap, apparently.

Once Sam had left, Kevin turned to Dean to find him watching him with his eyebrows raised, hands clasped together on the rickety table.

"What?" Kevin asked, grabbing a pen off the table, shifting papers around to look busy, and not like he'd just been watching Sam walk out of the room like a lovesick puppy. It only now occured to him that asking Dean questions about age difference and crushes would give it all away. Dean knew Kevin had no contact outside of them, his mother, and Garth. He would make the connection immediately. He wasn't stupid, after all.

Ugh, shit.

"Nothing, nothing," Dean answered, raising his hands, showing Kevin his palms in mock surrender as he leaned back on his chair and tried to stifle a grin. It didn't work. 

It occured to Kevin that Dean might already know. Ugh, double shit.

It was too late to back down now, though, and he really, really wanted to get some of this stuff off his chest. Maybe Dean would be cool about it, not make it something it wasn't, and not run to tell Sam all about it. He could trust him with this stuff, right? He glanced at Dean again and saw his expression shift into concern as Kevin's own grew more serious, and decided that yeah, he could.

"Hey, if I ask you some questions, do you promise not to make a big deal? Like, even if you figure it out?"

The corners of Dean's mouth pulled down as he considered this, quickly followed by a nod. His forearm was resting on the table, fingers picking at it's worn surface as he watched Kevin closely. He was briefly transfixed by Dean's gaze, because damn, those Winchesters could certainly make you feel naked and open with one little stare down.

"Sure thing. I guess it sort of depends on the questions but we can deal with that when we get there," Dean's voice snapped him out of it, and he shook his head. His leg was moving up and down under the table, and he'd begun to play with the pen in his hands, twirling it in his fingers. Nervous. Heart racing. What if Dean got mad about his crush, or something? They were kind of intense, maybe he'd be pissed.

"Earth to Kevin, hello?"

Right! Dean. Right there, waiting for him to ask those questions! Get a grip, Tran, you're in Advanced Placement.

"Sorry, uh. Right, Okay," he started, tugging at the collar of his clean sweatshirt. Sam had brought his dirty laundry back to their bat cave, as Dean called it, and thrown his clothes in the wash for him. The thought made him smile a little to himself, and he often caught himself pulling up the collar and tucking his chin and nose there, inhaling. It smelled like him. Detergent, dust, mold, and old pages. "Say you like someone," he continued, pausing there as he glanced at Dean again, swallowing hard.

"Right." Dean frowned, but nodded, and Kevin couldn't tell if he was confused that someone was coming to him for romantic advice, or if he was piecing it together already. It was probably a mix of both.

"Wait, scratch that. Um."

"Dude." An eye roll, a hand twirling to mean go on, spill it.

"Okay, what I mean is... you and that angel guy. You've got a thing, right?"

Dean's face suddenly went through an array of expressions, not at all subtle, speaking volumes for his thought process. From confusion to surprise to something akin to offense, but only on the surface.

"A th -- wait, hold on, what?" He leaned forward from his chair, his wide frantic eyes boring into Kevin's. "What are you getting at, Kev?"

"N-Nothing! I'm not one to judge or anything, I just wanna know what it's like to be into someone like, a billion years older than you are!"

The words spilled out of him too fast for him to stop them, and it was with something close to horror that he saw Dean's eyes slide the way Sam had just left. Like he knew. When he glanced back at Kevin his lips were a thin line, and he thought that was it, he was going to get yelled at, Dean wouldn't let Sam near him again.

"Okay, first off," Dean said, and Kevin flinched despite the words being softer than he'd expected. Dean pointed a finger at him, accusing. "First off, Cas and I, we don't have a _thing_ , whatever that means to you kids these days," he continued. "We're -- he's -- you know what? It's none of your damn business!"

As Dean stood up and turned his back to him, he nearly tipped his chair over and tripped on the table leg. Kevin realised that Dean was actually _flustered_ , that he was defending whatever it was he shared with the angel. He gave him a few seconds, clicking and unclicking the pen in his hands. Dean squared his shoulders before turning back to Kevin, snapping.

"Stop doing that or so help me," he hissed, and Kevin's thumb stopped halfway.

"Uh. Sorry," Kevin said, not sure if he was apologizing for the clicking or for upsetting Dean somehow. He felt awkward, like he'd pushed something too far when he'd never even tried pushing anything in the first place. The air in the room had gotten uncomfortable, and was that an elephant in there? Yeah, it totally was. Would they talk about it? No, probably not. 

"Don't, man, it's just -- let's not talk about Cas, shall we?" He gave a brief, sarcastic smile before sitting back down, running a hand down his face. He looked tired, suddenly, worn out. He kept looking at things and spacing out, just for a second or two, but enough for Kevin to notice.

"He's okay, right?" He asked after a few seconds of silence. Dean looked away, out of the window, and Kevin saw the way his jaw clenched before he spoke. His voice had lowered, and it was thick with emotion and Kevin felt ashamed for prying.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course he is," he said, but it sounded false, like he was trying to convince himself. They sat in silence for a while longer, and Kevin thought it was okay if he didn't get to talk about how he felt, and how he didn't know what to do about it, because Dean looked like he had his own romantic drama going on. It was almost a relief, really, this way he sparing himself a lot of embarrassement and some likely relentless teasing from Dean.

Eventually, though, Dean turned to him again with a cheeky grin.

"So how about that giant crush you've got for my brother, huh?"

Kevin's head shot up so fast his neck popped and he dropped his pen, fumbling to catch it, knocking his hand on the edge of the desk and swearing as he shook it in the air to ease the sharp pain in his fingers.

There was a loud sound and Kevin realised it was Dean, throwing his head back and laughing. It was startling and Kevin let out a surprised laugh of his own, before both of them were at it, laughing at each other, at themselves, at the absurdity of both of their situations. They laughed until they were breathless, and Sam found them gasping for breath.

So that hadn't gone as expected, but later Dean took to clapping him on the back and leaning in to tell him Sam's favorite book or movie, or the way he liked his eggs, and their shared, secret glances to Sam's questions about their laughing fit said enough.

Yeah, he could talk to Dean if he really needed to. 

Maybe next time he wouldn't bring up the angel, though.


End file.
